


Limits

by batastrophe



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batastrophe/pseuds/batastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After pushing himself just a little too hard, Robin falls asleep in the Cave before training. Cuteness, Team shenanigans, and Daddybats follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limits

Dick yawned.

And yawned, and yawned, then slumped into the side of the car, head leaning against the window. God, he was _tired_. He didn’t remember ever being this exhausted in his whole life, and that was saying something, considering all the late nights he pulled working with Batman. But the past couple days had been rough, at least on his sleep cycle. First, there had been a mission with the Team that had kept him out all night on Wednesday (or Thursday morning? Whatever. He was too tired to care). Bruce had offered to call the school and let Dick take a sick day in order to catch up on sleep, but he’d refused. He told Bruce he could handle it, which he _could_ , and it wasn’t worth falling behind in schoolwork. He promised to rest up on Thursday night to make up for it.

What he _didn’t_ tell Bruce was that he was already pretty far behind in his schoolwork; in fact, he needed to play some serious catch-up in a couple classes. He’d already missed school a few times this year because of various missions with the Team, and though it wasn’t so much that they couldn’t explain it away as Dick having a weaker-than-average immune system, it did mean more makeup work at home. And normally, that was fine. Dick generally didn’t have much trouble understanding his homework or getting it all done, but he’d fallen a bit…behind the past two weeks. Okay, maybe more than a bit. Majorly behind. His math teacher collected the homework every two weeks, and the deadline was on Friday and he’d only done the first three days’ worth. And if he didn’t hand in his English paper on Friday, well, let’s just say he wasn’t going to be feeling the aster. Especially if Bruce found out how far behind he’d let himself get. _That_ would be a disaster, _heavy_ on the dis.

So instead of resting up like he’d promised, he stayed up all Thursday night finishing his work. He’d even snuck up a domino mask for the night vision so Bruce wouldn’t see a light on under his door when he got back from patrol (which, as it turned out, happened sometime around four in the morning.) It wasn’t like the math was _hard_ , it was just a bit time consuming since there was so much of it left. And it took a bit of time to write a coherent essay, especially when you were on your second all-nighter in a row. By the time he was done, it was already nearly six in the morning and it wasn’t really worth trying to go to bed at all by that point.

Dick suppressed another yawn as he gazed at the street through the car window, grey and drizzly in the weak afternoon light. He’d managed to make it through the day at school, now he just needed to last through afternoon training at the Cave.

“Are you feeling well, Master Dick?” inquired Alfred from the driver’s seat as they drove back home after picking Dick up from Gotham Academy. He was giving Dick a suspicious sidelong glance, a small frown creasing between his eyes.

“M’fine,” said Dick, immediately sitting up straighter and forcing himself to look more alert. One of the key parts of his plan was not letting either Bruce or Alfred catch on, and that meant he couldn’t be slouching around against the inside of car doors. He mentally scolded himself. He must be pretty tired if he was forgetting how important it was to look awake. Did that sentence make sense? Oh, whatever. “It’s just one of those sleepy days with the rain and all, Alfie,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, forcing himself to look perkier. Alfred seemed satisfied for the time being and refocused on the road. Dick tried very hard not to yawn again.

* * *

“So, I was thinking of heading over to the Cave a bit early today,” Dick said to Alfred. When they’d gotten home, Dick had climbed up to his room and changed out of his school uniform, then come down to the kitchen where Alfred was. Normally at this point, he and Alfred would catch up with each other about how their days had gone, often while Dick did some homework before he headed off to the Cave for training, depending on the day. But today, he wanted to get out of the manor before Alfred figured out how exhausted he really was and barred him from going to training at all. Which would be ridiculous because he was _fine_ and he could handle going without a little sleep, but Alfred probably wouldn’t see it that way, and besides, he really didn’t want him to find out he’d lied about getting a good night’s sleep the night before. He already felt guilty about the lie, and he really just wanted to get out of the house before it turned into a thing.

“Well, it is Friday, so I suppose I don’t see why not,” said Alfred, clearing the table. “Is there any particular reason?”

“No reason,” fibbed Dick. “Just want to hang out with everyone a bit before training starts.”

Dick smiled brightly and said goodbye to Alfred, then let his smile drop as he headed downstairs to the Zeta-Tube in the Batcave. _Okay, Dick, focus,_ he thought, as he grabbed a pair of sunglasses and dialed in the coordinates for Mount Justice. _You just need to get through training. You can do that. Just get through the afternoon._ The light brightened and after a moment, he found himself standing in the Zeta entrance of the Cave.

“ _Recognized: Robin-B-Zero-One_ ” announced the voice from the Zeta-Tube.

“Hey, Rob! You’re here!” cried a voice excitedly, and less than a second later, Wally zoomed into the room in a yellow blur.

“Wally?” asked Dick. Wally didn’t normally get here until right before training started, in part because he was on Central time and therefore got out of school an hour later than the other members of the Team, but mostly due to the fact that he was a flash and therefore had a tendency to be paradoxically late. “What time is it? Am I late?” Dick asked, confused.

“…No?” said Wally, giving him a look. “There’s a clock, like, right there man. You’re not late.”

Dick continued to stare at him for a couple seconds. “Are you…early?” he asked, a part of him still clearly not seeming to believe the answer, though it was the only logical conclusion.

“Yeah I am!” said Wally exuberantly. “Snow day in Central City!” He held up his hand for a high-five. Dick smiled and returned it. “Though to be honest, I did just get here like, two minutes ago. Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Wally suddenly, looking Dick over.

“Am I?” Dick asked, confused. He reached up to check he had remembered his sunglasses, but no, they were there.

“Dude,” said Wally, “seriously? Red and black, has an ‘R’ on the chest, what you generally wear when we have training?” He plucked at his own uniform for emphasis, staring at Dick incredulously. “Since when do you wear civvies to training?”

“Oh,” said Dick, looking down at himself, somewhat surprised. Had he really forgotten to change into his uniform? That was embarrassing. He rubbed his eyes beneath the sunglasses. He’d read somewhere that studies showed that people who were sleep-deprived acted the same way as people who were drunk. Was this what it felt like to be drunk? His head felt all muzzy.

“Okay, right,” he said, turning back toward the Zeta-Tubes. He’d just have to go home and change, and hope that nobody noticed the return trip.

“Rob, where are you going?” asked Wally. “You have spare uniforms here, don’t you?” Right. Spare uniforms. Was he really this out of it?

“Right, right,” he said, shaking his head in an attempt to wake himself up. “Sorry, KF, I had a late night last night. Guess I’m not really on my game right now.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it!” said Wally, perking up. “We still have like, an hour before training officially starts. Superboy and Megalicious aren’t back from school yet, and Kaldur and Artemis haven’t gotten here yet either. I say we hang out and have some bro time while we wait!”

“That sounds great, Wally,” said Dick, smiling.

“And hey, if you’re really this off your game, maybe I can beat you in sparring today,” said Wally, elbowing him playfully. Dick rolled his eyes and shoved Wally back as they made their way into the TV room.

“You want some popcorn?” hollered Wally from the kitchen as Dick sank into the green couch in front of the TV.

“I could say yes, but I know you’re going to eat it all anyways,” Dick called back.

“Hey, do you really think so little of me?” said Wally, pretending to be hurt.

“Yes,” said Dick without hesitation.

Wally laughed from the other room as he put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “Okay, I probably deserved that.”

Once the popcorn was ready, Wally plopped down on the couch next to Dick and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels rapidly before settling on a rerun of _Celebrity Hockey_ , all the while babbling about his day, the upcoming training session, the Team, and whatever else seemed to pop into his head. Dick tried to be a good friend and follow the conversation, he really did, but his brain just wasn’t tracking right now. He was just so _tired_. If he closed his eyes for just a _minute_ , that would be okay, right? Wally wouldn’t even notice behind the sunglasses. He was still listening, he just needed to rest his eyes…

* * *

 

_“Recognized: Artemis-B-Zero-Seven”_

Artemis glanced around the training room where the Zeta-Tubes were, but nobody seemed to have arrived yet. She glanced at the clock; there was still a half hour until training time, so it wasn’t that surprising. Hearing voices coming from the lounge area, she headed that way.

“…and that’s why I’m never ordering a chimichanga from Taco Whiz again!” finished Wally, gesturing wildly.

Artemis paused in the threshold, grimacing. “Wow, okay, I _do not_ need to hear the beginning of that story.”

Wally whipped around, then sagged a little when he saw her. “Whatever, Artemis,” he said dismissively, “I wasn’t telling _you_ that story anyways.”

“Thanks _so_ much,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She glanced around the room from where she stood behind the couch, only seeing Wally. “Uh, who were you telling it to?” she asked. “The furniture?”

Wally stared at her as though she were stupid. “Uh, I was telling it to Rob, _duh_ ,” he said, gesturing beside him. From her vantage point behind the couch, Artemis couldn’t see Robin at all, but when she came around the side, she could see their youngest Team member sitting to one side of the couch, leaning with one elbow propped against the armrest of the couch, head resting in his hand, staring at the TV.

 “Oh, hey Robin,” she said to him. “I didn’t see you from over there.” Both Wally and Artemis stared at Robin for a moment, waiting for him to respond. Silence.

“Uh, Rob?” said Wally, leaning over and looking at his friend, who was still staring blankly through his sunglasses at the TV. “Hello?” asked Wally, waving a hand in front of Robin’s eyes. No response.

“Is he…” started Artemis. “Is he _asleep_?” They both stared at him uncertainly for a few seconds more, and, as if in answer, Robin’s jaw fell slackly open and he let out a single, soft snore.

“Oh my god,” she said, reaching for her cell phone. “He _is_ asleep!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” said Wally, gesturing to her phone.

“Oh, come on, Wally,” she said, ignoring him as she lined up the shot. “It’s not like I’m drawing a moustache on him or something. Besides, you know there’s no way Robin wouldn’t do this if it were one of us.”

Wally pursed his lips for a second, then shrugged. “Okay, fair enough,” he said, and leaned into the shot and gave Robin a pair or rabbit ears. She clicked the photo. Wally zoomed over to stand behind her, peering down at her phone. “You are _so_ texting me a copy of that,” he said evilly.

“He’s so _cute_ ,” she giggled. “He’s gonna hate us.” Wally’s phone dinged as Artemis sent the photo.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Artemis, after she recovered from her mirth. “Should we wake him up? Training’s in twenty minutes.”

“I dunno,” said Wally, considering. “He did seem pretty wiped when he came to the Cave. He probably needs the extra Z’s.”

“Clearly,” scoffed Artemis. “We’ve been talking at like, full voice for the last five minutes and he hasn’t even twitched.”

“Yeah,” agreed Wally, “But I don’t think he’ll want to miss training, not to mention he’d kill us if we let the rest of the Team see him like this—”

“If you let us see who like what?” asked M’gann, appearing in the entrance of the kitchen.

Conner walked in behind her, carrying a stack of books. “And who’s going to kill us?”

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag, Wall-Man,” said Artemis teasingly, leaning in toward Wally just slightly. Wally sighed and rolled his eyes. So much for Robin not killing him. “Come see for yourselves, guys,” said Artemis, waving Conner and M’gann over.

The two of them walked over to the couch, M’gann looking earnestly curious and Conner slightly suspicious. They stopped when they came in view of Robin. M’gann’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to suppress a smile and Conner’s face melted from serious to soft.

“Should…should we wake him up?” asked Conner uncertainly.

“Nah,” said Artemis. “This is too funny.”

“He’s…he’s sort of cute,” said M’gann, tilting her head and struggling to suppress a smile.

“I _know_ , right?” said Artemis gleefully.

“Alright, alright, enough with the cute,” said Wally, annoyed. “He’s not a…baby panda or something, okay?”

Robin shifted slightly in his sleep, sinking further down on the couch, the motion pushing his sunglasses slightly askew where his face still rested in his hand. All four of the bystanders froze, waiting to see if he’d wake up, but he settled down again and let out another gentle snore.

“You were saying?” asked Artemis. “He is _so_ a baby panda.”

“So not helping!” said Wally, throwing his hands in the air.

“ _Recognized: Aqualad-B-Zero-Two_ ” announced the voice from the Zeta-Tubes. As one, the group turned and looked toward the entrance to the kitchen as Kaldur walked in a few moments later.

He paused on the threshold, taking in the sight of his Team staring at him somewhat guiltily. “Should I be concerned?” he asked, walking towards them.

“Robin fell asleep and Artemis is comparing him to a baby panda,” said Wally, stepping away from her and pointing to the archer.

“Hey!” she said, propping a hand on her hip and glaring at him.

“Actually, Wally, you’re the one that compared him to a baby panda first,” said M’gann, considering.

“That is not even—ugh,” said Wally, throwing his hands up.

Kaldur peered over the shoulders of his teammates at Robin, who had by now sunk far enough down on the couch that his head was threatening to topple off of his propped arm. “Have you tried waking him up?” he asked.

“We were kinda debating that,” said Artemis sheepishly.

“We’re so _loud_ ,” mused Conner. “How is he sleeping through us talking like this?”

“Robin?” asked Kaldur, leaning toward him. “Robin? It’s nearly time for training. Wake up.” Robin shifted a little, frowning behind his sunglasses. “Robin?” asked Kaldur again, experimentally touching Robin on the shoulder.

“Mmmph,” he groaned, and swatted Kaldur’s hand away. “Go ‘way, Alf,” he murmured, and shifted down so his head was cradled in the crook of his arm against the armrest. He let out another snore.

“Uh, maybe we should just let him sleep,” said Wally quickly, hoping he was the only one to catch the ‘Alf.’ Forget Robin killing him for that photo, he’d _really_ be dead if he just stood here while Robin accidentally gave out clues to his secret identity.

 “Hmm…” began M’gann thoughtfully. She raised her arms out, eyes glowing green, and telekinetically lifted Robin from his scrunched position on the couch. He floated for a moment while she moved a throw pillow under his head, then settled Robin onto the couch, his body now lying across the full length of it rather than squished in a corner. She then floated a blanket over from across the room and softly draped it over him. “He just looked really uncomfortable,” she explained.

Robin muttered something unintelligible as the blanket settled over him, then grabbed a corner of it as he rolled onto his side, effectively wrapping himself up like a burrito.

There was another click and they all turned to look at Artemis, who had her phone pointed at Robin again. “What?” she asked, shrugging. “I’ll send you all copies.” A moment later, all their phones dinged.

* * *

At first, Black Canary had been concerned when her youngest pupil didn’t report to the training room, especially when the rest of the Team told her he was too tired to join them. Thinking he might be ill, she’d gone to the TV room, the rest of the Team trailing after her. She’d experimentally placed a hand on his forehead, but didn’t detect a fever.

“He seemed pretty tired when he came in earlier,” said Wally, rubbing his hand through his hair. “We thought if he was this out of it, we should probably just let him sleep.”

“Out of it?” questioned Canary, turning to Wally. “What do you mean?” The rest of the Team was looking at him curiously now too.

“Well…” said Wally, glancing around uncomfortably. He was regretting his choice of words. “He may have…forgotten to change into his uniform before coming here…and also forgot he had spares in the Cave…and was acting pretty confused in general, and he kinda just passed out in the middle of a conversation….” He trailed off, embarrassed for his friend. “He also said he didn’t really sleep last night.”

“No wonder he’s so tired!” said Artemis, jabbing Wally with her elbow. “Two nights ago was that mission in Rhelasia! None of us slept that night!”

“And if he did not sleep last night either…” concluded Kaldur, nodding, “it’s no wonder he’s exhausted now.”

Black Canary raised her eyebrows at Robin, who was still wrapped up in the blanket. Looking at him carefully, she could just see the telltale signs of exhaustion on his face, though because he was so young, the creased lines and dark under-eye circles weren’t nearly as obvious as they would be on an adult, and his sunglasses obscured the worst of it. “All right, let’s leave him alone,” she said, ushering the Team back into the training room. “Though I will be speaking to Batman about his sleeping habits,” she muttered under her breath as she clicked off the light to the TV room. She couldn’t believe that Batman would let Robin out on patrol with him all night after the Team had already had a long and exhausting mission the night before. She couldn’t think of another reason why Robin would have stayed up for two nights in a row.

Training went as usual for the next couple hours, and the Team had just broken for dinner and were considering heading into Happy Harbor for a pizza so they wouldn’t disturb Robin by using the kitchen area.

“ _Recognized: Batman-Zero-Two,_ ” announced the voice from the Zeta-Tube. Black Canary was preparing to head out for the evening but paused and turned toward the materializing Batman, propping a hand on her hip and frowning. Batman strode forward and opened up a computer console, ignoring her and the rest of the Team as he pulled up some files. “Mission briefing in twenty minutes,” he said tonelessly to the Team, turning towards them for the first time. “Full Team deployment tonight.”

The Team stared back at him curiously for a moment, then looked at each other uncertainly.

Batman narrowed his eyes, noting their absent member. “Where’s Robin?” he asked, his voice cold. Had he been injured during training? Why hadn’t anyone notified him?

“Batman,” said Canary, drawing his attention to her. “Robin is fine,” she said, seeming to detect his concern, even though he knew none of it showed on his face. “But if I could have a word?” she asked, gesturing to the door to the living area of the Cave.

Batman relaxed marginally, but was still suspicious. “The rest of you, prepare for the mission,” he said, as he strode across the room toward Canary. “I expect you all ready for briefing at the appointed time.”

Batman followed Canary through the halls of the Cave, growing irritated. “Care to share with me what this is about?” he asked. He was still in the dark about why Robin wasn’t in the mission room with the rest of the Team. If he wasn’t injured, why wasn’t he with his teammates?

Canary led him into the lounge area of the Cave, an area that he honestly didn’t visit very often. He usually limited his visits to the mission room, preferring to allow the Team more autonomy and a measure of personal space, especially since the kitchen and TV room were essentially a part of M’gann and Superboy’s permanent living quarters.

“I can’t believe you, Bruce,” Canary said in soft, fierce tones as they approached the green couches. “How could you let him go out with you last night, especially after the Team’s mission in Rhelasia went longer than planned? Robin is _thirteen_ years old. Someone his age needs _at least_ eight hours of sleep per night. I know he doesn’t always get that with your schedule, but this is just ridiculous!” she gestured to the couch, revealing Robin, fast asleep.

The angle of Batman’s shoulders softened a little and his mouth turned down when he saw his son. Dick was lying on one side, curled slightly like an apostrophe, and had pulled a corner of the blanket into a rough ball that he had pulled close against his chest and under his chin, the rest of the blanket trailing away and obscuring the lower half of his face below his nose. His hair was mussed where it had rubbed against the pillow, and his sunglasses seemed to have long ago fallen to the floor. Batman could just distinguish dark circles below the boy’s eyes, though they probably wouldn’t have been visible to the untrained eye. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked quietly.

“Nearly three hours,” said Canary, also softly. “Wally said he was acting lethargic and confused when he came to the Cave, classic signs of sleep deprivation. He also said that Robin told him he didn’t sleep last night,” she said, crossing her arms and turning towards Batman. “Care to explain?”

“He wasn’t out on patrol with me last night,” said Batman. Canary raised her eyebrows, surprised, and dropped her arms. “In fact, I expressly told him he needed to be in bed by ten o’clock. Clearly,” he continued, a note of annoyance in his voice, “he didn’t listen to me.” He sighed, and absently brushed a stray lock of hair out of Dick’s face. Dick had left for school before Bruce had awoken from his own paltry three hours of sleep the night before, and it was his first time seeing his son since the previous afternoon. He hadn’t realized Dick hadn’t gone to sleep the night before; if he had, he would have insisted that Dick stay at home and rest up before participating in any training or missions. “I’ll talk to him later, Dinah,” he said quietly, “The Team will have to make do without him for this one.”

Canary sighed as well, then bent and retrieved Robin’s sunglasses where they’d fallen to the carpet. “I sometimes worry we ask too much of them,” she admitted, placing them gently on the table by the end of the couch. “I know there’s no way I could have balanced everything the Team does when I was a teenager.”

“It’s not us asking it of them,” replied Batman. “They demand it of themselves. Every member of this Team is here because they asked to be, because they demanded it. We’re just here to guide them. Though some days, they could use more guidance than others.” He turned away and walked back toward the mission room, Canary following behind him.

* * *

It was one of the stranger dreams Dick had ever had, though he wasn’t exactly aware he was dreaming at the moment. He was in the manor, along with the rest of the Team—something felt a little off about that scenario, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. They had a mission, though he wasn’t too clear on exactly what it was, but it seemed vital that they all get down to the kitchen. But for whatever reason, the manor wasn’t laid out like it normally was—they’d already snuck through the library and the dining room and the sitting room, and now they were out in the garden ducking behind hedges that were growing more and more maze-like. He was trying to flip over one of the hedges just to get his bearings, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to get very high off the ground. Meanwhile, the rest of the Team was bounding around like they were born acrobats, leaving Robin behind.

Someone nudged him in the shoulder, and he turned around to see Alfred holding a tray with a phone on it. Dick picked it up and could distantly hear Bruce on the other end.

“Not now,” he said. He was on a mission. They had to get to the kitchen before Kid Flash starved to death—

The hand nudged him in the shoulder again.

“—to wake up, Robin,” the voice was saying. “You can sleep more when we get home.”

 “Go ‘way,” he mumbled, and rolled over. Wait, rolled over? Why was he lying down?

Dick cracked open his eyes blearily, the dream slipping away like water through a sieve. He looked around, confused. He was in the Cave, but everything was unusually dark. He reached up to his face to rub his eyes, surprised to discover a blanket draped over his arm. “Unghh,” he groaned, sitting up, and noticed Batman seated next to him on the edge of the couch.

“Wha’s happening? Wha time issit?” said Dick, clumsily throwing the blanket aside. He looked around the darkened Cave blearily. “Is it time for training?”

“Training was three hours ago,” said Batman. Dick turned with a jolt and stared at him.

“Three _hours_?” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?!” Come to think of it, why was he _asleep_? “Ugh,” he groaned, leaning back on the couch, his arm flopping over his eyes. He’d messed it all up. He wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.

“The Team _did_ try to wake you,” replied Batman, “but deemed it unwise when they realized that you hadn’t slept in two days.” Dick stiffened slightly. He was in really, really big trouble, wasn’t he?

“Are you mad at me?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact with his mentor and hating how childish the question sounded once it was past his lips.

“A little disappointed,” said Batman, “but I’m not mad. Dick, why didn’t you go to sleep last night? I thought we had a deal.”

Dick bit his lip and looked anywhere that wasn’t Batman. “I just—look,” he started, “If I told you how much work I had to get done for school last night, you would have said this was all too much for me, and it’s _not_. I can _do_ this.”

Something about Batman’s demeanor seemed to soften a little, and he pulled back his cowl. “Dick, I have never doubted your abilities,” he said. Dick shrugged, as though he didn’t really believe it. Bruce faltered, unsure of what to say. He was never good at communicating, something he’d belatedly discovered was invaluable when raising a teenager.

Dick sighed in frustration and turned away, shoving his sunglasses back on his nose. “Where is everybody?” he asked, changing the topic.

“They have a mission.”

“A mission?” Dick whipped around, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Why are you sitting here talking to me? I’ve gotta go change!”

“Dick,” said Bruce, grasping the teenager’s arm. “The Team left twenty minutes ago.”

Dick stared at Bruce unbelievingly and tugged his arm out of his grip. “They went without me?” he asked.

“I _sent_ them without you,” said Bruce.

“Why’d you do that?” demanded Dick. “I just told you, I can _do_ this!”

“Dick,” said Bruce, grasping him by the upper arms and gently guiding him back into his seat. “And I just told you, _I have never doubted your abilities_.” He paused, searching for his words. “But despite that, you weren’t in any shape for a mission tonight. Wally reported that you were acting lethargic, confused. You went for _two days_ without any sleep. Most grown men and women can’t function coherently in that condition. You would have been a liability on a mission right now.”

“So that’s it, then, isn’t it,” huffed Dick. “I mess up _one_ time, and that’s it! You get to decide when I do and don’t get to go on missions!”

Bruce looked back at him, puzzled. “Is this what this is all about?” he asked, frowning. Dick looked away, glaring, refusing to meet his eyes. “Dick, you not going on this mission is not a _punishment_ ,” said Bruce. “And for the record, I never said you messed up.”

“But you were thinking it,” Dick muttered.

“No, I was not thinking it,” replied Bruce. He sighed again. “I may not always be very forthcoming with praise,” he said, haltingly. “It’s a habit I pick up from myself. I never want to become over-confident or complacent. It’s not something I want you to become either. But...Dick. It’s not just a matter of me simply not doubting your abilities…I am continually _impressed_ by them.”

Dick looked up sharply at the compliment. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. With all that you do, it’s sometimes troublingly easy for me to forget that you’re just thirteen. You are the youngest member of this Team, and in many ways have accomplished more than any of its other members. And more than that, you oftentimes hold yourself to a higher standard than I even hold you to—and you of all people know that my standards are high.” Dick smiled a little at that. “But even so, I don’t demand perfection, Dick. What I want above all is for you to make smart choices that benefit both you and your Team. I want you to excel not in spite of your limitations, but rather learning and growing with them, adapting to them. None of us are perfect,” said Bruce, raising an eyebrow, “and I will admit that I oftentimes don’t set the best example for healthy behavior.” Dick snorted at that statement. “But above all, I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough. Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Huh,” said Dick softly.

“That being said,” continued Bruce, “I expect you to be honest with me in the future. I don’t want you putting your personal health on the line because of my opinion ever again. And I also expect you to understand that if I keep you from a mission or a night of patrol, it’s not because I think you can’t handle it.”

“Okay,” countered Dick, “but how about this. Next time you make a call like that, you _tell_ me why instead of keeping me in the dark.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, Bruce,” said Dick, “you have a seriously bad habit of not explaining things to me. I mean, first it was a secret orbiting headquarters in space, then it was giving us these kiddy missions away from any action. Look, I _know_ that at first we were starting out and you had to see how well the Team would actually work together before giving us bigger missions,” said Dick staring down at his hands, “but you have to understand how it feels being kept in the dark so often. Maybe you have good reasons for the decisions you make, and sometimes I find out about them later, but Bruce,” he paused, and took a shaky breath, “sometimes it’s really hard to figure out if you have a reason, or if I did something _wrong_.”

Bruce paused for a moment, then reached up and squeezed Dick’s shoulder softly. “You make some good points,” he admitted. “It’s a deal.”

Dick looked up, surprised. “Really? You’ll actually _talk_ to me and clue me in to your weird motivations if I…what’s my end of this deal?”

“To not blame yourself for my bull-headedness when I inevitably forget, and to hold me to it.”

A grin crawled across Dick’s face as he looked up at Bruce. “Yeah, I think I can live with that,” he said.

“Good,” said Bruce, standing and drawing his cowl over his face. “But for tonight, you’re going home and going straight to bed.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but followed Batman out toward the Zeta-Tubes anyways. “You know you make me sound like I’m five years old when you say it like that.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Batman, totally unbothered. “Yet I don’t hear you arguing.” 

Dick tried to come up with a clever comeback, but found he just didn’t have one at the moment. Instead, he smiled as he trailed after Batman toward the Zeta-Tubes, stretched his arms out to the sides, and yawned.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic ended up skewing a bit more daddybats than I first anticipated, but I am perfectly okay with that. In the show, it seems like Dick and Bruce have a pretty good relationship when Dick is Nightwing, and it doesn’t really seem like they had a huge falling out like they are often showed to have had in the comics. I figure the only place that could really come from is from improved communication, so you can take this fic as a possible origin of that improved communication. I was also trying to draw off of some of Robin’s frustrations of he and/or the Team being “babied” that he expresses in early episodes of season one, as well as how much he beats himself up when he thinks he’s disappointed Bruce, when really he hasn’t (see “Downtime”).  
> In other respects, this fic is largely based upon my own experiences with sleep deprivation, most notably when I pulled two all-nighters in a row and then passed out in an airport baggage claim for three hours, various limbs looped around my various bags of luggage, squished into one of those annoying airport seats and leaning against a concrete pillar, completely dead to the world.  
> I also figured that Gotham Academy would be pretty academically rigorous, and was basing that on some of my own experiences at an academically demanding high school. We’d all get together and compare who got the least amount of sleep the night before (“Oh, you went to bed at two last night? Yeah, well I went to bed at three so take that! I’m more tired than you are!” Seriously this really happened to me.) There also was a math teacher at my school who would collect the homework all at once every two weeks, and I remember my sister devoted several all-nighters to completing the whole set at once, so I figure that bit’s at least a little plausible.
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and please leave a comment with your thoughts! I’d love to hear them! :) This story can also be found on ffn and my tumblr batastrophe7.


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